


First Year

by tinylilremus



Series: Maybe It's Magic [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, The fluffiest fluff, teeny tiny Arthur, teeny tiny Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:37:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7518988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinylilremus/pseuds/tinylilremus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer Arthur turns eleven, with the memory of his father's reaction when his sister got her Hogwarts letter still fresh in his mind, he spends almost the entire holiday in dread that he'll get one too. However, when the inevitable happens, he gets far more than just a spot at a magic school – he gets a family. Well, that and an inconvenient acquaintanceship with a strange dark-haired kid, who Arthur definitely does NOT like. Not at all.</p><p>Prequel to Note To Idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Year

When Arthur turns eleven in the summer after primary school, it's the first time in his life that he's not excited about his birthday.

He still has the big party with all of his classmates, still opens an enormous pile of presents and still has an amazing birthday cake. But this year, when he blows out his candles, his wish isn't for a new XBox or mountain bike.

This year his only wish is to not get a Hogwarts letter.

Arthur can still clearly remember the day that Morgana got hers. He was sitting at the door waiting for the post (knowing that it was likely to include birthday cards from his family overseas), when he saw it: a thick envelope made from the kind of paper Arthur had only seen in movies about the olden days. It even had a bright red wax seal. At seven years old, Arthur knew a great deal about adventures and this letter included all the indicators that this was one just waiting for him. With trembling hands, he slowly turned over the letter. It took him a moment or two to decipher the neat joined-up writing on the front only to have his grand dreams of being the next great explorer dashed when he realised that the name on the envelope wasn't his.

“Morgana!” He said as he barged into the kitchen where she and his father were eating breakfast. “A stupid old letter came for you.”

“Don't say ‘stupid’, Arthur,” sighed Uther, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

“ _You_ just did,” said Arthur, handing Morgana the envelope which was decidedly less interesting now that he knew it wasn't for him. His cheeky remark earned him a stern look from Uther over the top of the business headlines and Arthur retreated. He didn't want to get on Father’s bad side.

“Who's it from, Morgana?” asked Uther, straightening his paper and resuming his perusal of the morning’s stocks. Arthur sat down next to his sister and pulled his Superman bowl and his box of Coco-Pops closer to him.

“It's from a school,” she said, eyes wide as she scanned the page.

“Ah,” said Uther. “You can ignore it then. You're going to St Swithun’s.”

“It's from a school called Hogwarts,” she said, staring at the page in front of her, a smile creeping across her face. Uther slowly lowered his newspaper and Arthur saw that he was sheet-white. “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A magic school.”

“Wow, cool!” said Arthur, trying to grab the letter from Morgana to read it. Being five years older than Arthur, Morgana’s arms were a lot longer than his and she successfully managed to hold it far enough away from Arthur that he knew he wouldn't be able to reach it.

Unfortunately, this put the letter right in front of Uther’s face and he tugged it from Morgana’s hand with ease.

“Father, no, that's mine!” she screamed as Uther began tearing it up.

“No it isn't,” he said calmly, gathering the pieces and making his way to the pedal-bin in the scullery. Morgana jumped up, furiously brandishing her empty envelope at Uther.

“It's got my name on it!” she shouted. “Even my bedroom! ‘West Corner Bedroom, First Floor’ – that's what it says!”

“There must have been a mistake,” said Uther, turning around to glare at Morgana. “No daughter of mine could be a _witch_.”

The word was spat out with so much venom, it made Arthur's stomach coil. While Arthur always seemed to be in trouble with Uther for something or another, he had never once heard Uther raise his voice at Morgana. It was one of the reasons Arthur and Morgana fought so much. He didn’t understand how it was possible that she never seemed to make Uther cross.

To hear his father sound so angry at Morgana now was terrifying.

“I _am_ a witch, Father,” said Morgana firmly. To prove her point, she twirled her hand and made a daisy appear between her fingers out of nowhere. Arthur forgot his fear, momentarily awed by the fact that magic was _real_ and his sister of all people could do it. “Morgause was telling me —”

“ _Morgause?_ ” Uther hissed.

“Yes, Morgause,” glared Morgana, “the sister you’ve kept from me all this time.”

As Uther and Morgana began yelling at each other, something powerful and scary and new started building inside of Arthur. It teased at his nerves, making his fingers tingle, his eyes prickle and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He didn't know what it was, but he knew if he didn't get away from his family, away from the yelling, something bad was going to happen.

He pushed away from the table, trying his best to get away before he let off the explosion he felt building inside, but when Uther took a step toward Morgana, towering over her as he shouted, Arthur felt the last bit of control slip away.

Without knowing how he did it, Arthur sent Uther sliding backwards away from Morgana until he slammed into the fridge and hit his head. He slumped to the floor, pulling several fridge magnets with him as he fell. To Arthur's horror, Uther wasn't moving and Arthur was convinced that he had just killed his own father.

“Arthur, was that you?” Morgana said, whipping around to look at him. Arthur nodded silently before bursting into tears. Morgana crossed the kitchen to where he stood and pulled him into a tight hug. “Hey, it's okay. He's just knocked out. You can see his chest moving – he's still breathing. We'll go get Leon’s parents to help now, alright? You didn't do anything wrong, Arthur, okay? You just got scared and your magic acted out. Morgause says that happens sometimes. It's not your fault.”

Arthur sobbed into his big sister’s shoulder. Her words did little to shake the incredible guilt that had now settled on his shoulders. He had hurt his dad and he didn't know how he had done it or how he was supposed to fix it. He was sure that at any moment the police were about to show up at the front door to take him away to jail.

“Arthur?” said Morgana softly. She pulled back from Arthur to look at him, tears now spilling from her eyes. “Arthur, I have to go. I have to go to my sister, Morgause. She told me that if it ever got really bad, I should… I'm going to go live with her. I'm so sorry that this happened, and I'm so sorry that I have to go. But you'll be alright. Just —”

“Please don't go, Morgana!” said Arthur, clutching tightly to his sister. He had spent so many years wishing she would just leave him alone. Now, all he wanted to do was make sure that she never left. “Please don't go.”

“I have to,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She let go of Arthur to touch a silver bracelet on her arm. The stone on it glowed amber and a second later, with a sound like a whip crack, a strange lady appeared in their kitchen.

“Morgana!” said the lady, crouching down to look Morgana in the eye. “What is it, are you alright?”

“Morgause, Uther found out about my magic,” she replied, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I got my Hogwarts letter and… Arthur, h-he got scared and he pushed him away with magic.”

Morgause turned around to glance at Uther before she fixed her dark brown eyes on Arthur. Her expression was a strange mix of scrutiny and sympathy.

“Before we go, can we please take him next door to the Andrews?” asked Morgana softly. “He's only seven and this is the first magic he's ever done. He’s so scared. Leon Andrews is his best friend and he spends a lot of time there. They'll be able to help him with Uther.”

“Of course,” Morgause nodded, offering a hand to Arthur who reluctantly took it.

Morgana spent the short walk to the Andrews’ front door whispering apologies to Arthur, who was still sobbing. He knew only babies cried as much as he was crying now and he tried to stop, but the more he tried the harder it became.

Morgause rang the doorbell and a few moments later Mrs Andrews answered the door.

“Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, seeing the state of the two of them. “Arthur, Morgana, what happened?”

“Hello, Mrs Andrews, is it?” said Morgause offering her a hand to shake. Mrs Andrews nodded. “My name is Morgause. I'm Morgana’s older sister. I was here to pick up Morgana for a visit and it appears that Uther has had a nasty fall. He's unconscious now. The kids were in quite a state when I arrived. Ordinarily I would stay to help, but Morgana and I have to catch a flight and if we don't leave now, we'll miss it.”

“Oh, well of course if you _must_ leave…” Mrs Andrews said, looking at Morgause with the same expression she wore when Leon and Arthur tried to sneak extra biscuits from the biscuit tin. “Please come in, Arthur. Leon is watching his cartoons in the living room. I'll send Stephen immediately to help your dad.”

Arthur turned to face Morgana, knowing it would be the last time he saw her for a long time. If he ever saw her again.

“I'm going to miss you,” he said, throwing his arms around her.

“Me too, Pipsqueak,” she said in a choked whisper, squeezing him tight. “Be good.”

Arthur couldn't speak anymore so he just nodded,

“Thank you so much for your help, Mrs Andrews” said Morgause, taking Morgana's hand. “Goodbye, Arthur.”

Arthur waved in response, suddenly feeling a deep sense of loss as he watched her take his sister away.

The last thing he remembers of that day is watching Morgana's long dark braid disappear around the corner and wishing bitterly that that _stupid_ envelope had never made its way through their letter slot in the first place.

Now he's eleven and he hasn't been able to sleep since the holidays began, knowing that any day now his Hogwarts letter will fall onto the mat in the hallway and he’ll probably have to relive the worst day of his life.

Because the accidents haven’t stopped. Just in the past month he’s set fire to his father’s newspaper with just his mind (Uther blamed it on the toaster’s faulty wire), accidentally exploded a particularly ugly vase in the lounge (Uther blamed it on a stray cat) and one memorable day, managed to turn all the books on his father’s bookshelf so that the spines were facing in and Uther couldn’t see which was which. Arthur got the blame for that one, but Uther seemed to think he had done it by hand to annoy him. He can’t imagine Uther’s reaction when he realises that all of these events were caused by magic.

The only glimmer of hope Arthur has is that Leon found out he’s also magical and his parents (non-magical as they are) are okay with it. The day they found out (when Leon fell out of a tree and stopped in mid-air just before he hit the ground) was the day Arthur told them the full story of what had happened with Morgana and her Hogwarts letter. After that Mr and Mrs Andrews made it perfectly clear that if Arthur ever needed a safe place to stay, he was to come live with them. He hopes he won't ever need to take them up on the offer. As much as he knows his father isn’t the world’s best dad, with Morgana gone Uther is the only family he has and he loves him despite his flaws. God knows he’s far from the son Uther was expecting him to be.

It’s a rainy Tuesday morning when the inevitable letter does fall through the letter slot. Arthur’s heart sinks. As much as he’s dreading it, he knows it’s probably best to get it over with as soon as possible, so he takes it to the kitchen and clears his throat. When Uther looks up to see the envelope clutched in his hand, his expression sours. Arthur expects shouting, expects a list of ‘accidents’ and demands to explain whether they were actually accidents or not.

Instead, Uther responds with quiet fury.

“Get out,” he says in a measured voice. “I want you out of my house now.”

“Father…” Arthur says, taking a step towards Uther who holds out a hand to stop him.

“Don't call me that. You’re not my son,” he says, turning his attention immediately back to his newspaper. The words cut like a knife and Arthur wants to argue but Arthur knows if he doesn't leave now, he might get really angry or upset and accidentally hurt his dad again. A small, dark part of him wonders if that would be such a bad thing, but it's quickly overtaken by almost unbearable sadness.

By the time he knocks on the Andrews’ front door, his duffel bag filled with as many of his possessions as he can carry, he’s a mess. He finds himself momentarily grateful for the rain. It makes it difficult to see the tears pouring from his eyes.

Leon’s dad answers the door and when he sees Arthur's face and the fact that he's holding his Hogwarts letter, he immediately works out what's going on. As he pulls Arthur into a tight hug, the first clap of thunder rolls and Arthur decides he's never hated anything as much as he now hates storms.

***

Leon and Arthur are sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express waiting for the rest of the students to file onto the train when two important things happen at the same time.

Arthur isn’t prepared for either.

He’s very different from Leon’s parents in that respect. Mr and Mrs Andrews, though relatively young (Arthur doesn't think they can be older than thirty five, though he's never asked) are brilliant and are nearly always prepared for everything. It’s one of Arthur's favourite things about them.

For instance, when a Hogwarts representative (an old man named Professor Gaius, whom they were informed was the Potions teacher at Hogwarts) came to talk to Leon and Arthur about attending the school, Mrs Andrews baked enough biscuits and pastries to last them all a week. When Leon and Arthur stayed up late one night talking about how scary it was going to be to go to school on the other side of the country, they woke up to find a note pinned to their cork board that said “10 Reasons Magical Boarding School Is Going To Be Brilliant”. When Uther came over one afternoon to tell Mr and Mrs Andrews that he was moving to central London and that he was prepared to sign the adoption papers, Mr Andrews made sure to lay out Arthur's favourite pajamas and announced that they were going to have a family sleepover in the living room, complete with a blanket fort and all of his favourite movies to ‘celebrate the newest member of the Andrews family’. It turned what could have been the worst day of Arthur’s life into one of the best days of Arthur's life.

It stands to reason, therefore, that Mr and Mrs Andrews would have them bundled onto the train a full hour before it’s due to leave.

Arthur isn't complaining. Knowing that he won't be late and that they get first pick of the compartments is more than enough to make up for any awkwardness that might have ensued from their over-punctuality.                                                                   

They’ve opened up the window to their chosen compartment so that they can still talk to Leon’s parents while they wait, but Leon’s parents are pulled into a long conversation with an older red-haired gentleman who seems to think they’re the most interesting people he’s ever met. A short way away, a plump lady of a similar age (who Arthur assumes is his wife) is watching him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness and Arthur’s heart pangs painfully in his chest. Whoever’s grandparents these two are are incredibly lucky. He’d give anything for his own grandparents.

Leon seems to sense that Arthur is getting lost in his thoughts again, and kicks him in the shin.

“Oi!” says Arthur with a laugh. “What was that for?”

“You’re thinking too much again,” Leon replies, grinning. “If you’re going to be doing that, at least think about something useful, like why it is that we want to be in Gryffindor again?”

“I've been doing a lot of reading and it’s clearly the best house,” says Arthur confidently, rehashing a conversation the two of them have had on multiple occasions over the past few weeks. “Gryffindors are known for their bravery and daring. It’s the hero house. That guy who saved the wizarding world was a Gryffindor. And their house colours red and gold. Red is my favourite colour.”

“My favourite colour is blue,” says Leon.

“Well go off and be a swotty Ravenclaw then,” says Arthur, pleased when Leon shakes his head. “In any case I’d take Ravenclaw over Hufflepuff or Slytherin.”

“Is someone bad-mouthing Slytherin in here?” says a familiar voice outside of their compartment. Arthur’s head snaps up and his face breaks into a grin when he sees who it is.

“Morgana!” he says, jumping up to hug her. Morgana holds him tight and he feels tears prickling behind his eyes. He forces them back; there’s no way he’s crying on the first day at his new school.

After a while he stands back to look at her while she uses a tissue from her pocket to wipe away her tears. She’s taller now, but not much taller than she was and she looks grown-up already, though Arthur knows she’s only sixteen. A small silver-and-green badge on her jumper says “Prefect” and Arthur feels a rush of pride for his older sister.

“It’s good to see you again, Pipsqueak. I was hoping I’d bump into you here actually because...” Morgana trails off as she spots Leon who is staring at her like a deer caught in headlights. “Leon! It’s lovely to see you again too! I definitely wasn’t expecting to find you here. You’re muggleborn?”

Leon nodded, seemingly unable to form words. Morgana chuckled.

“Well, well, you really were in the best hands with the Andrews then,” she says to Arthur. Arthur momentarily feels a pang of anger that she could be so blasé about his new living situation when she got to run off to live with her sister, but remembers how much she had been crying the day she left and knows she isn’t trying to be mean. “Anyway, Arthur, I was hoping to find you because I wanted to ask you a favour.”

“Sure,” says Arthur. “Anything.”

“This is Merlin,” Morgana says and for the first time he realises that there’s a boy standing behind her. He’s scrawny and tiny, at least a head shorter than Arthur, with dark hair that sticks up a little and the biggest ears Arthur has ever seen on a person, but when he looks up Arthur sees that he has really pretty blue eyes that seem to help the rest of his features make sense. “He’s also a first-year. His pet owl died this morning and he’s still a bit upset, so I was hoping you might be able to keep him company?”

“Er, sure,” says Arthur, not sure what to make of this new development. He was hoping that he and Leon would have the compartment to themselves for the whole trip, but since it was Morgana that asked and he’s hoping to make a good impression after not seeing her for so long, he doesn’t see that he has much choice but to let Merlin join them.

“Cheers,” says Merlin, dragging his trunk into the compartment and plonking down on the seat opposite Leon next to the window. With a small smile he waves to a kind-looking lady on the platform who waves back. Arthur assumes it’s his mum. Mr and Mrs Andrews seem to assume the same thing and immediately make their way over to her to introduce themselves. The ginger man from before is further down the platform now hugging a blonde girl that Arthur thinks must be his granddaughter.

“Thanks, Pips,” says Morgana, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I have to go get my instructions from the head boy and girl but I’ll catch up with you soon. Good luck with the sorting, boys. I hope to see you all in Slytherin.”

Arthur waits until the door is closed behind her before pulling a face.

“ _Anything_ but Slytherin,” says Arthur. “I don’t care what Morgana says.”

“I wouldn’t mind being a Slytherin,” says Merlin. Arthur’s response is interrupted when the train’s whistle blows, signalling that the train is about to leave. Leon and Arthur allow Merlin to lean out of the window to hug his mum goodbye first before taking turns to hug Mr and Mrs Andrews.

“Make us proud, sons!” shouts Mr Andrews over the sound of hissing steam and Arthur has to swallow back a lump as the train starts moving. He absolutely _will not cry_ no matter how grateful he is for Leon’s parents or how terrified he is about going to Hogwarts. The three of them watch as their parents grow smaller and smaller in the distance until eventually they can’t see them at all anymore.

There’s awkward silence in the compartment for a while, punctuated every so often by what Arthur suspects is a sniff from Merlin. Fearing that listening to Merlin cry might set him off, Arthur decides to distract him.

“So, er, why are you so set on Slytherin then?” he asks.

“I never said I was ‘set’ on Slytherin,” says Merlin and Arthur hears that he has a Welsh accent. “I just wouldn’t mind it if I got sorted there that’s all.”

“Yeah, but why?” asks Arthur, looking at Leon to help back him up, but his friend is doing a good job of pretending to be engrossed in the football magazine Mr and Mrs Andrews bought him for the trip. Arthur hasn’t taken his aviation one out of his trunk yet. “Aren’t you worried about… I mean they don’t exactly have the best history, do they?”

“Just because some evil witches and wizards were in Slytherin when they were at school,” says Merlin, annoyed, “does not mean that all Slytherins are bad. My dad was a Slytherin. _Merlin_ was a Slytherin.”

“Was your dad Merlin, then?” asks Arthur with a laugh. “Are you Merlin Junior?”

“Don’t be stupid,” says the dark-haired boy, blue eyes glittering dangerously. “ _That_ Merlin lived over a thousand years ago. My dad’s name was Balinor. He was a Dragon Handler.”

Arthur briefly considers asking Merlin why he talks about his dad in the past tense, but fears that will bring up questions about Uther and he really doesn’t want to talk about him right now.

“There’s no such thing,” is what Arthur eventually settles on, feeling foolish as soon as the words leave his mouth. What does he know about jobs in the magical world? Not one to back down from a challenge however, Arthur decides to stick to his guns.

“There definitely _is_ such a thing,” says Merlin defensively. “Anyway, what would you know? Your parents are Muggles.”

“So is your mum, isn’t she?” says Leon, joining the conversation now that his parents had been mentioned. “I heard her telling Mum and Dad on the platform.”

“Yeah, well my dad wasn’t,” says Merlin. “And neither is my uncle. He’s a professor at Hogwarts.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?” asks Arthur, who has memorised his list of teachers to make it easier when he gets to school.

“Professor Gaius,” says Merlin and Leon’s face lights up.

“Oh, Professor Gaius!” says Leon. “We met him. I mean, he came to speak to us about Hogwarts. He’s pretty cool.”

“I think so too,” Merlin smiles. “He’s a bit weird. He prefers to spend time around frog guts than people, but he’s brilliant.”

“He’s awesome,” agrees Leon. “He seems to really know his stuff. I think Potions is the class I’m most looking forward to.”

“I think it’s the class I’m least looking forward to,” Merlin laughed. “Having your uncle spend an afternoon teaching you the difference between eye of newt and eye of toad when all you want to do is be outside with your friends will put you off potions for life. Still, he’s family and it will be nice to have someone I know at Hogwarts already.”

“Oh yeah?” says Arthur, annoyed at suddenly being left out of the conversation. “I suppose now you’re going to tell us he’s also a Slytherin.”

“He’s head of Ravenclaw House, actually,” says Merlin coolly, turning to stare out of the window.

“Ah,” says Arthur, colour flushing his cheeks. “He did actually mention that.”

Something about Merlin makes Arthur feel incredibly stupid and Arthur hates it. He decides not to talk to him for the rest of the trip and the three of them sit in silence that is only briefly interrupted when an old lady with a trolley knocks on their compartment door selling sweets. Arthur has to resist the urge to spend all of his money on Cauldron Cakes and Chocolate Frogs, but does buy himself a neat little stash of Peppermint Mice and a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans for Merlin who Arthur noticed didn’t get up to buy anything.

“Thank you,” Merlin says, cheeks flushing, as he accepts the box from Arthur and three Chocolate Frogs from Leon. They briefly discuss their Famous Witches and Wizards cards, laughing when Arthur gets old-Merlin, but it’s not long before they fade into awkward silence again. Arthur flips through his magazine, eagerly reading the articles on Cessnas and Pipers and the USA’s newest attack helicopters all the while aware that Merlin is looking at the pages too, clearly interested. Arthur knows he should invite him to have a look with him, but he’s so scared of saying or doing something stupid again that he just can’t bring himself to extend the invitation.

After a while, with a sigh of boredom, Merlin announces he’s going for a walk and (much to Arthur’s unexplainable annoyance – hadn’t he wanted it just to be Leon and him?) they don’t see him again until after the announcement to change into their school robes.

“Where do you think Merlin’s got to?” Leon asks, as he straightens his tie in the reflection of the now-black windows. “He should be back by now.”

“I don’t know,” sighs Arthur, checking his reflection as Leon turns around to pack his clothes into his trunk. “He’s probably gone to get chummy with some Slytherins. Or maybe he’s off crying about his owl like a great big girl.”

“Arthur…” Leon warns, but he doesn’t need to. Over his shoulder, Arthur has just noticed that Merlin has walked into the compartment, looking hurt and angry. Arthur’s heart contracts painfully. He feels terrible.

Without a word, Merlin begins changing into his robes, pointedly ignoring every attempt of Arthur’s to apologise, leading to Arthur eventually giving a huff of defeat and staring angrily down at his new school shoes for the rest of the trip.

As the train stops at Hogsmeade station, their compartment still tense with stony silence, Arthur decides he doesn’t care if he and Leon get into Gryffindor and Merlin gets sorted into Slytherin after all. It would serve him right.

Later though, when that’s exactly what happens, he finds to his surprise that he minds quite a bit.

***

“So, are you enjoying Hogwarts so far?” asks Morgana as they stroll around the lake on Halloween morning. Although they’ve had a few chats here and there, Morgana has been super busy with her N.E.W.T. classes and prefect duties. This is the first chance they’ve had to have a proper catch-up since school started.

“I love it,” grins Arthur. “Some of the classes are a bit boring, but my dorm-mates are cool and flying lessons are amazing.”

“You’ve always liked the idea of flying,” smiles Morgana. “When you were five you told Uther that you wanted to be an airplane when you grew up.”

Arthur blanches a little at the mention of Uther. He’s tried as hard as possible not to think about him since arriving, but he should have know that in talking to Morgana his name was bound to crop up. Arthur doesn’t respond to his sister. Instead, he finds a smooth flat rock and throws it so that it skims the smooth surface of the lake.

It gets four bounces, his new record.

“Why did you keep the surname, Arthur?” asks Morgana gently. “Leon was telling me that his parents have legally adopted you. Uther’s not your father anymore. Well, not really.”

“I don’t know. Too much was changing too fast,” Arthur replies, picking up another stone to skim. The stone Morgana skims gets six bounces and Arthur is convinced she’s used magic to make it go farther. “Leon and I have been like brothers since we were little and his mum and dad were always like family to me. Now that they actually kind of are… I don’t know. I still feel weird about thinking of them as my parents and it just seems like too much to change part of my name. Why didn’t you change yours?”

“For similar reasons,” Morgana smiles, “but also so that one day when I’m Minister of Magic, that huge magephobe ends up sharing a name with the person in charge of the UK’s magical community. It’s petty, but it keeps me motivated.”

Arthur lets out a bark of laughter, thankful that the years haven’t changed his sister all that much.

A fit of giggling further down the bank draws Arthur’s attention and Arthur’s heart gives a strange pang when he sees Merlin. They share a few classes (Potions included), but apart from that Arthur doesn’t see him around school all that often.

He’s sitting with a large group of friends and they’re all laughing at something that a Hufflepuff boy – Will, Arthur thinks his name is – has just said. Merlin looks completely different when he’s laughing. Arthur has only ever seen the boy smile shyly or (more recently) scowl every time their eyes meet. He’s never seen Merlin’s eyes crinkle at the corners so that they almost look shut, smile so wide that it seems to take up his whole face.

“I noticed that you and Merlin haven’t really spoken since the Hogwarts Express,” says Morgana and Arthur jumps, hastily looking away from the giggling group. “Did you two not get along? Is it because he’s a Slytherin?”

“No,” says Arthur defensively. “I don’t have a problem with Slytherins. I mean, I didn’t want to _be_ one, but that doesn’t mean I don’t _like_ them.”

“So you like Merlin?” Morgana smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“No!” says Arthur, cheeks flooding with colour. “I mean I don’t _hate_ him, but he’s an idiot. He always frowns when he sees me, he’s always late for lessons because he keeps getting lost and yet he somehow still always gets the highest marks in the class. He’s such a know-it-all.”

“So he’s an idiot _and_ a know-it-all? He sounds talented.”

“Shut up, Morgana,” says Arthur and for a moment, it’s just like old times when Morgana would tease him about whatever took her fancy that day. The feeling is oddly comforting.

“I’ll shut up if you go say hi to him,” she says, evil grin growing wider. “Unless you’re afraid to? Imagine a Gryffindor being afraid of just saying hello.”

Before Morgana gets the chance to say anymore, Arthur is determinedly marching towards the group of students. Their laughter dies down the minute they notice him approaching.

“What do you want, Gryffin _bore_?” asks Merlin, scowling at him. The group dissolves into giggles again and Arthur’s heart speeds up. He hasn’t thought this far and now he’s standing in front of a group of people who are all looking at him with faces various shades of amused or annoyed.

“I just wanted to tell you to keep it down,” says Arthur, deciding that feigning bravado was almost the same as having it. “Some of us are trying to have a nice quiet walk by the lake without your donkey-laugh ruining it.”

“Just ignore him,” Merlin says to the group. “He doesn’t like people crying either. I think the only emotion he understands is ‘smug’.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and stomps off, listening to the group cheerfully greet Morgana. He resists the urge to turn around and tell them to stop being so friendly with her. It’s _his_ sister after all.

Morgana sprints to catch up with him and waits until they’re out of earshot of the group to talk again.

“So you _do_ like Merlin,” she grins.

“I don’t,” says Arthur, snippily. “We’re mortal enemies. You just saw for yourself.”

“I know what I saw,” says Morgana smugly, leaving it at that. Arthur takes great joy in the fact that this time he knows that he’s right and Morgana is wrong.

Because there is absolutely no way he likes Merlin Emrys. No way.

***

Quidditch is the best thing Arthur has ever seen. Gwaine and Percy tried to explain it to him as best they could and he understands the rules, but it’s nothing like actually watching it. He’s mesmerised by the speed of the balls, the height the broomsticks reach and the way the players manage to swerve and dodge each other, all the while somehow not falling off their broomsticks to their deaths. It’s completely mental and totally magical and Arthur can’t wait to try it for himself.

The only thing that’s putting a slight dampener on the occasion is that since he, Leon, Lance, Gwaine, Elyan and Percy were late in getting to the stands, they’re right next to the Slytherin supporters. And not just any Slytherin supporters either.

Much to his annoyance, Arthur is standing right next to Merlin.

They haven’t said a word to each other since that day at the lake and Arthur doesn’t plan on changing that, resolutely ignoring him while Gryffindor score goal after goal. In fact, if it wasn’t for a Slytherin Chaser taking a nasty Bludger to the head three quarters of the way into the match, Arthur wouldn’t have had any interaction with him at all that day.

When Arthur sees that Morgana is the player taking the injured Chaser’s place, he’s too proud of her to not cheer with the rest of the Slytherins. It earns him a few strange looks from his fellow Gryffindors and a particularly irksome smirk from Merlin, but Arthur tries not to let it bother him. Not when his sister is so good at his new favourite sport.

When Morgana scores a goal, Arthur throws his arms around the two people nearest him in excitement, remembering a split-second too late that the person to his right is not Elyan or Percy. He turns to see Merlin looking at him with a mixture of amusment and irrritation. To his left Gwaine is smirking in that ridiculously irritating way that makes Arthur want to punch him sometimes.

So embarrassed that he wishes the stands would just open up and swallow him, Arthur lowers his arms and watches the rest of the match in silence, trying not to cheer when Morgana scores another two goals or when Gryffindor catches the Snitch and wins the game.

***

Arthur’s first Christmas with the Andrews is the best Christmas he’s ever had.

Christmases with his father were always a dry and sombre affair. Every year Morgana and Arthur each got a small pile of presents at the end of their bed which they were expected to open on their own while Uther slept. After a reasonable amount of time and a few games with their new toys later, Morgana and Arthur would wake their father with a gentle “Happy Christmas”, handing him their gift (generally whatever they could afford with their combined pocket money or whatever monstrosity Morgana had made in her art class). Uther would smile politely as he opened it, saying that it was lovely and setting it aside before getting up to make Christmas lunch. After lunch, Uther would force them to watch the Queen’s speech with him before he went back to bed, leaving Morgana and Arthur to watch the Christmas specials of all their favourite programmes until they inevitably fell asleep on the couch.

It was the same when Morgana left, except that Arthur had no one to share it with.

By contrast, Christmas with the Andrews is a cosy, warm, lovely thing filled with tons of presents, mountains of mouth-watering food and desserts and singing along to cheesy Christmas carols. Arthur gets to experience counting down to Christmas day with an Advent calendar, meets the old Christmas-light loving couple that have moved into his old house, helps Leon decorate the massive tree Mr Andrews brings home one night (something that he never got to do while living with Uther), and on Christmas day, is allowed to forgo the Queen’s speech completely for the first time in his life.

Which is why he feels even more stupid when later, while they’re watching the Doctor Who special together, he finds the words “Can you please pass the marshmallows, Mum?” tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. His eyes widen in terror as he realises what he’s just said, and he can’t stop the embarrassed heat that creeps into his face.

He expects everyone to be awkward, he expects Mr and Mrs Andrews to frown at him for being so impolite after all their hospitality, he expects Leon to glare at him because they’re _his_ parents, not Arthur’s, he expects everyone to make hasty excuses to go to bed.

What he doesn’t expect is for everyone to carry on as if it happens every day.

“Here you are, love,” says Mrs Andrews gently, handing him the bowl of sweets. Arthur accepts them, but only takes one and spends the rest of the episode nibbling at it, stomach rolling unpleasantly. He’s completely lost his appetite, furious with himself for being such an idiot.

As the end credits of the show roll, Arthur announces that he’s tired and is going to bed, though his heart is racing far too quickly for him to even think about sleep. He hastily goes upstairs, brushes his teeth and changes into the new pajamas he got as a gift that morning.

Lying in bed thinking about how wonderful the day was until he royally mucked it up, Arthur feels hot tears beginning to fall from his eyes. It’s the first time he’s cried in ages and he hates the way it makes his throat feel raw and scratchy, his chest feel like it’s closing and eyes feel like they’re burning.

There’s a soft knock on the door and Arthur sits up, wiping his eyes on his sleeve before saying a small “come in”.

“Hey, Kiddo,” says Mr Andrews as he and Mrs Andrews walk into the room. Mrs Andrews sets a steaming mug of hot chocolate on his bedside table.

“I gave you extra whipped cream because I know it’s your weakness,” she says fondly as she sits down on the edge of his bed.

“Thanks, Mrs Andrews,” Arthur quietly replies, making sure he doesn’t muck it up this time.

“Arthur, we know that the last few months have been really difficult for you,” says Mr Andrews, “and while you haven’t really spent all that much time with us here physically since everything happened, I hope you know that you’re a part of the family.”

“I know. I mean, I do. Thanks, Mr Andrews,” smiles Arthur.

“The thing is,” says Mrs Andrews, smoothing Arthur’s hair out of his face, “you’re our son. And not just because we have a fancy bit of paper that says you are, but because we’ve spent years seeing you grow into the lad you are now. We’ve watched proudly as you’ve overcome obstacles and heartbreak and loss and it’s done nothing but make you stronger and kinder. You’ve been our son for a lot longer than a few months, Arthur. We love you just as much as we love Leon. And though we’d never make you, if you want to call us Mum and Dad, we’ll proudly be that for you.”

“R-really?” asks Arthur and it’s almost too much to hope for. It’s certainly the best Christmas gift he’s ever received. He’ll finally have a real family – what Leon has.

That particular thought makes his chest pang.

“What about Leon?” Arthur asks and Mr and Mrs Andrews look confused. “You’re Leon’s mum and dad. Isn’t he going to get… jealous or something if there’s someone else around calling you Mum and Dad?”

“Don’t be daft!” says a voice from outside the door and Mr Andrews crosses the room to answer it. Leon is there clutching a cup of hot chocolate and looking guilty.

“Leon Richard Andrews, what have we said about eavesdropping?” says Mrs Andrews with a stern look.

“Sorry, Mum, I was just worried about Arthur,” he said, looking at Arthur with concern. “Mate, please don’t feel guilty about sharing my mum and dad. I think having you as my brother is brilliant and there’s no one I’d rather share them with.”

Arthur doesn’t know when it starts, but he knows he’s crying again when his family all pile onto his bed to hug him. It’s silly as far as favourite memories go, but sitting there while his mum, dad and brother hold him, with the smell of hot chocolate mingling with his dad’s shampoo and his mum’s baking, Arthur knows this moment will always be precious to him.

***

The thought that he has a proper family to go home to is enough to get him through the rest of the year. Even when Morgana catches his dorm-mates and him wandering the castle at night and gives them detention for it. Even when he spills a potion all over himself, turning his robes bright pink and the class laughs at him. Even when Merlin beats him in every subject except Flying.

Even when Merlin, looking for somewhere to sit on their trip back to London, briefly hesitates outside their compartment because his other Hufflepuff friend, Gwen, is sitting with Lance who she had become good friends with after being paired up with him in Herbology. He seems to seriously consider joining them before deciding against it after seeing Arthur, leaving Arthur feeling strangely hurt and disappointed.

Even after the slight sting of Merlin refusing to be in the same room as him, Arthur is still as excited as anything to see Mum and Dad waving at Leon and him when they pull into King’s Cross later that day. On the platform, when they pull Leon and him into a tight hug and say “Welcome back, my boys,” Arthur knows he’s home.

***

Arthur’s feelings about his twelfth birthday are a lot different to his feelings about his eleventh birthday. Leon spends the weeks leading up to it hinting that Arthur’s getting an amazing gift from Mum and Dad, but frustratingly won’t give him any more information than that and Arthur eventually stops trying to find out what it is. The night before his birthday, he can’t sleep again, but out of excitement this time, not dread.

When he wakes up, twelve years old, and sees a package shaped suspiciously like a broomstick at the foot of his bed with the note _‘Happy birthday, Arthur! Love Mum, Dad and Leon xxx’_ , Arthur knows he’ll never dread another birthday again.


End file.
